


harbor lights

by watchthesunrise



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Best Friends, F/M, Kid Fic, they are 14 years old in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:30:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchthesunrise/pseuds/watchthesunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're working together," she states. She knows it is unnecessary, for certainly he must be aware of this fact. But his eyes are piercing her skin, causing her to focus her attention on picking at her black nail polish, and she doesn't know what else to say.</p>
<p>// OR in an attempt to completely put their past regarding their lost family member, Samantha, behind them, the Mulders move into the house directly next to the Scullys. The families do not interact much; Fox opting to spend his time furthering his research on aliens, and Dana simply deciding that her neighbors are strange. However, when the two are paired up for a science project, they quickly form a bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	harbor lights

**Author's Note:**

> This fic basically started as me jokingly telling my sister to imagine msr as teenagers working on a project together. I don't remember my exact words, but it was something along the lines of, "imagine Mulder just watching conspiracies videos on youtube, while Scully gets angry because she just wants to get the damn project done." Evidently, my idea escalated, and this fic happened. This took me a while to finally post, and I hope you all like it!
> 
> WARNING: at one point, Mulder's mom slaps him. This is child abuse, so if this is triggering to you please be careful!

They have been living next to her for quite some time now, moving in nearly two months ago. She remembers watching the moving truck pull up onto the side of the street, observing the family of three as they hastily collected their things and hurried inside. She has caught very few glimpses of the couple since, and has only ever seen the boy - Fox - at school.

She had attempted on various occasions to initiate conversation with the boy, but they remain to no avail. It wasn't that he appeared to be ignoring her, it was simply that he never actually realized she was addressing him. His nose remained buried in books about aliens and paranormal phenomena, and his eyes intently watched the small screen of his phone, conspiracy theories and articles constantly up.

He carried a notepad with him everywhere he went, as well. At first, when she noticed that he was constantly taking notes, she believed him to be a very hard worker. However, upon a further inspection of glancing over her shoulder during science, she realized that, despite his high grades, he was more often than not jotting down information on conspiracy theories, aliens, and how the government may be much more worrisome than any fourteen year old should imagine.

The Mulder boy was not at all what she would consider quiet, though. He had no problem voicing his odd opinions, most often in science class.

"But since there are so many galaxies other than our own, would it not be absurd to believe that we are the _only_ life forms in the universe?" He had questioned their science teacher.

"I suppose that is true," Mrs. Simmons had responded with a frown, "However, it would be impossible for them to visit, due to the fact that other galaxies are so many light years away."

It appeared that Fox had stopped listening, for he seemed satisfied as he quickly wrote in his notebook, pencil darting across the paper. She wonders if his writing is even comprehensive at all.

Due to the overwhelming evidence, she had long ago concluded that the Mulders are a strange family. She wonders what secrets they harbor behind drawn blinds and firmly shut doors.

It seems that she is not the only one who deems the Mulders odd. Fox has made quite a reputation at school, earning the title of "Spooky Mulder" among the students. Half of them spit this at his face, tormenting him in the halls and believing it all to be humorous. The other half whisper, and she imagines these whispers and stares sit like a heavy weight upon his shoulders.

She does feel pity for the boy, noticing the way his eyes shine with hurt when teased, and how he grips his green pen in clenched fists. She had tried to ask if he was alright, once. His binder had been knocked out of his hands, papers strewn across the floor.

"Are you okay?" She had questioned, hesitantly.

"Peachy," he had snapped, before gathering his papers and hurrying away. And that was that. She doesn't attempt to help anymore.

In fact, she has ceased her attempts to get to know her odd neighbor entirely. More often than not she actively avoids him.

However, she realizes that now this task will be next to impossible.

"I will allow you to work in pairs of two for this assignment," Mrs. Simmons announces, causing the class to immediately cheer. "However," she continues, and the students quiet, a spark of fear in their eyes, "I will be choosing your partners."

The class groans. She shoots her friend, Tom, a frustrated glance, which he returns.

When the teachers announces that she is to be working with Fox, she most restrain herself from letting out a long sigh. Instead, her eyes widen slightly in a way that she hopes goes unnoticed. It must not, for Tom shoots her a glance filled with pity.

After Mrs. Simmons has finished pairing the students up, she shuffles over to Fox's desk, and plops herself into the seat next to it.

"We're working together," she states. She knows it is unnecessary, for certainly he must be aware of this fact. But his eyes are piercing her skin, causing her to focus her attention on picking at her black nail polish, and she doesn't know what else to say.

"I know," he responds, before a grin lights up his face. "You must have pissed Mrs. Simmons off."

She knows he is teasing her, no doubt noticing her tense demeanor, however she can't help but review her behavior from the past week.

When she comes up with nothing, she clears her throat, and decides, "it must be because we're both top of the class."

"Must be," he responds, grin remaining intact.

Objectively, she decides, he has a nice smile. It's a boyish grin, lighting up his eyes, giving her a glimpse of his teeth, and causes dimples to appear on his cheeks. However, it is much too teasing for her taste, and she frowns in his direction.

"This is a big project, so we should try to get along," she tells him. "I'm actually looking forward to working with you."

It's a blatant lie, and perhaps he knows this. Her distaste for this arrangement was obvious from the start, but she now decides that politeness may be the best approach for dealing with the boy. She hopes that he will, in turn, attempt to be civil as well. This hope proves to futile, however, when his eyebrows raise and he mockingly grins once again.

"Really?" He questions. "And here I thought you were avoiding me."

She scowls at this. "I wasn't! I've tried talking with you," she pauses, before adding, "maybe once or twice."

"Well, we're talking now, so mission accomplished," he says cheekily.

"Yes, we are," she huffs. "And we are talking because we have been paired for a science project, so I suggest we work together on this. Now."

It's almost as if every time he opens his mouth she becomes more annoyed. Not even that, each time his expression changes she feels irritation flare in her chest. She wonders if there could be a scientific explanation, if he simply radiates an aura meant to keep others away.

"Well, there's no _'I'_ in _'team,'_ " he replies, laughing slightly, and she hates him for it.

-

Standing on his doorstep is awkward, despite it being so close to her own. She sighs, before raising her hand and knocking. She then waits. A moment passes, and then another, and she almost believes no one is home. However, their cars are parked in the driveway, and the house glows with soft light, so she concludes that they must be. She raises her arm once more, intent on knocking yet again, when suddenly the door swings open.

A woman eyes her cautiously. She is most likely as old as Dana's own mother, however wrinkles line her face, and dark circles are visible under her eyes, giving off the impression of living far longer.

Finally, she greets her, "you must be Dana. Come in." She stands slightly to the side, allowing the girl to pass.

Dana does, only a bit hesitantly, and turns to the woman before inquiring, "where's Fox?"

"In his room," Mrs. Mulder answers, then adds, "up the stairs, first door on your right."

The girl nods, before following the given instructions. A man - presumably Mr. Mulder - sips coffee in the kitchen, his eyes tracking her as she treks farther into the house. The stairs are white, and much too steep for her taste. The walls lining it are bare, and she can't help but consider this odd, thinking of the various photographs decorating her own walls.

Fox's door is the same shade of white as the stairs, and tall enough to tower over her. She silently curses the nervous feeling pooling in her stomach, before knocking, and sighing when there is no answer. She has not even been in the Mulder's house for more than two minutes, yet she already feels entirely unwelcome. It's almost as if everyone in the house is studying her, holding their breaths guardedly and awaiting to defend themselves against her presumed inevitable attack.

After knocking several times and having yet to receive an answer, she swings the door open and prays she hasn't interrupted something she does not wish to see.

The first thing that catches her eye is the general disorder in his room. There are more clothes on top of the dresser than inside the half closed drawers, and papers clutter the floor. There are various things taped to the wall, including "sightings" of mythical creatures and UFOs. The wall is also lined with printed out articles on government conspiracy theories. The most noticeable item on his wall is a poster, with white, blocky letter spelling out " _I want to believe._ "

Fox sits on his unmade bed, tablet in hand. He wears large, blue head phones, which explains why he did not answer the door.

"Fox?" She says in an attempt to gain his attention. He does not respond, and she repeats his name numerous times before growing tired and poking his tablet's power button. It goes dark, and he startles, before glancing up and shouting, "hey!"

When he realizes her presence, he smiles and waves.

"Oh. Hi, Dana," he greets.

"Hi, Fox," she responds dryly, vaguely annoyed. He winces, and she shoots him a curious glance.

"What?" She questions.

"It's nothing," he says, before admitting, "I kind of hate my name. I even make my parents call me Mulder. Or at least, I try to."

"Oh. Sorry, Mulder," she amends, adding this fact to her ever growing list on why the Mulder's are odd.

He nods, and she decides to translate it as a _"don't worry about it, it's fine"_ nod, rather than a _"you should be"_ nod.

"So, should we get to work?" She asks, expectantly.

"Uh, yeah," he says, however he turns his tablet back on, it's soft glow illuminating his face. "I was just watching this. If you don't mind, I'd like to finish it."

She frowns, standing taller and peering at the tablet. A video appears to be on the screen, yet she cannot tell what it is about.

"What are you watching that is so important that you can't work on our project?" She questions.

"It's a video on the government. Very informative," he responds bluntly, eyes glued to the screen.

"A conspiracy video?" She questions, disbelievingly.

"Exactly," he confirms, before scooting over and patting the space next to him. "C'mere. We can watch it together."

"Mulder, I don't - "

"Oh, come on Dana, what harm will it do? You'll love it, I promise," he tells her, a grin playing on his lips.

She sighs, shaking her head in annoyance, before plopping herself onto the bed and peering over his shoulder at the tablet. He cheers quietly, and takes out his headphones so she is able to hear the video as well.

"Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?" He inquires, directing his gaze from the screen in favor of her. She can't help but wonder if he is being serious.

"Logically, I would have to say no," she tells him, her eyes catching his. Mulder's eyes are bright, almost teasing, yet something more serious lurks beneath the surface. "You did hear what Mrs. Simmons said in class, right? We have found no other life in our galaxy, and - "

Mulder cuts her off, "conventional wisdom."

"What I find strange is the notion that you believe there are answers outside of science. The answers are there, you just have to know where to look." She says pointedly. She wonders if her arguments are futile, if it is possible that he will never stop searching for the truth, despite it being right in front of him: aliens don't exist and government conspiracy theories are utterly ridiculous.

"I know exactly where to look," he replies, turning the volume up on the tablet, while raising an eyebrow.

She sighs, and directs her attention to the video.

A man prattles on - she wonders why he doesn't have anything better to do - spouting nonsense on both why and how the government is hiding aliens from the rest of the world. She must admit he is convincing, however she knows that logically his facts are ridiculous, and have been crafted from a paranoid, delusional man.

After the video ends, Mulder exits YouTube, and she foolishly believes that they will finally get some work done. However, instead of shutting the tablet off, he opens the Internet browser, and begins typing into the search bar.

"I can tell that you don't believe any of this, but I've been doing some research of my own. There's a case not far from here that the _FBI_ is investigating," he tells her, before sliding the device into her hands.

The screen displays an article, describing multiple high school students who went missing, before being found in the woods and dying under unusual circumstances. Unknown chemical compounds have been discovered in the bodies, as well as three bumps on each of the victim's backs.

"I'm not sure why you're showing me this. What does it have to do with aliens?" She questions.

"The FBI thinks it's kidnapping, but that's where their wrong," he starts, pulling the tablet from her hands.

"Mulder - "

"Scully," he counters, and she frowns at the use of her last name. "Just listen, these victims are all showing signs of victims of alien abductions."

Later, she will curse herself silently, for they complete nothing. She spends her day arguing over the existence of aliens, pacing her science partner's room, and shooting contradictions his way. When she finally checks the time, she tells him that she must return home, before gathering her things.

"You may not believe me now, but you will," he says as goodbye. She almost laughs, a giggle lodged deep in her throat. Instead, she simply shakes her head, and leaves.

Upon arriving at her house, she eats dinner, and outright lies about the amount of work she has done.

"So, what do you think of Fox? His family is a bit," her mother pauses, before continuing, "strange, aren't they?"

"Mulder? He's a jerk," she replies immediately; it's almost a knee jerk reaction. Reevaluating her statement, she sighs, and corrects herself, "well, no, he's not. Just a bit stubborn, and a lot odd."

Afterwards, she heads to her room and finishes her math homework - quite easy, she decides, as long as she is able to remember the formula - and does everything in her power to put Fox Mulder out of her mind. This proves to be much more difficult than expected. His voice lingers in her ears, and each time she blinks his face dances behind her eyelids. She wonders if perhaps there is a scientific explanation, if he simply radiates an aura that demands to be remembered. To be pondered over, to question his views as well as her own.

Eventually, she completes her homework, and the sky goes dark. She grabs her night wear, but in the midst of changing her shirt she is met with a disturbing sight.

She turns, and looks over her shoulder at her mirror. Three bumps are on the small of her back, exactly where the victim's marks had been. She gasps, her mind racing a mile a minute. Were the teenagers taken because of the marks? Did the marks hold any significance as to why they were taken? Is it even remotely possible that Mulder's theory is correct?

She knows that her parents will brush this off, that the only person who will truly be concerned is Mulder. She grabs her phone to use as a light, and exits her room. She does everything in her power to be soundless as she pads down the stairs, and winces when her front door creaks. It is only when she is at Mulder's window that she considers the fact that this may not be the best idea.

She has no way to gain his attention without alerting his parents. And even if she did manage it, who is to say that he would help her? And what could he possibly do to help, if he did choose to?

Eventually, she decides that she is already here, and she may as well make an attempt to gain whatever assistance she can, if only to soothe her paranoia. She turns her phone on, and opens the flashlight app before shining it directly at Mulder's window. If he is awake, hopefully he will notice the bright light and decide to investigate.

He does, for soon the window is flung open, and Mulder pokes his head out with a look of pure terror. It eases when he notices Dana, yet he still appears both confused and surprised.

"Scully?" He says incredulously, and as the name tumbles from his lips she wonders is she will forever be referred to by her last name in his eyes.

"Mulder, get down here! Please, I need to speak with you," she whisper-yells, hoping desperately that neither his parents nor hers will notice.

There is a brief pause, in which he stares at her as if she is out of her mind. He also appears to be breathing heavily, seemingly recovering from the panic she had brought on by simply flashing a light in his window.

He then nods, and she expects him to close the window and exit the back door. However, he does no such thing. Instead, he climbs out of the window, before leaping out and landing in front of her. She blinks, almost expecting his to be hurt, yet he appears fine, if only a little winded.

"What is it?" He inquires, frowning.

"I need you to look at something," she says in response, before clicking her phone on and handing it to him as a source of light. She then turns around and lifts her shirt slightly, just enough for him to see the small of her back. She feels him bend down to get a closer look, before his fingers brush lightly against her skin. The contact causes her to take in a breath, and she hopes he will deem her shiver to be caused by the wind.

He then begins to laugh, and she frowns, whipping around.

"What?" She demands. "Mulder, what are they?"

"Mosquito bites," he tells her, standing up once more and passing her the phone.

"Are you sure?" She questions.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I got eaten alive today myself."

Relief floods her system, and before she can think to do otherwise she is rushing forward into his arms. She lets out a sigh, burying her face in his chest. He wraps his arms around her and she feels comforted. Safe and at ease.

Not dying, then.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks.

She nods, for she is. Now, at least.

-

The grass is cold underneath her skin. Her only defense against the crisp night air is a thin pair of pajamas, yet she feels no desire to return to the warmth that awaits her inside of her house.

Mulder lays next to her, his head tilted back onto the ground, eyes trained on what little stars they can see in the city sky.

"I was twelve, my sister was eight," the boy begins softly. He too shows no sign of wanting to return to his house, appearing immersed in his story.

"We were in the living room, playing a board game. I was in charge of her." He has a far away look in his eyes, as though he is witnessing the very event he speaks of.

"There was a bright light, and she was suddenly lifted up, before floating out the window. She was screaming for me, shouting my name." His voice breaks, and he turns to look at her. She reaches out and sympathetically rubs his shoulder, waiting patiently for him to continue.

He takes a shaky breath, before doing so. "But I couldn't save her. It was almost as if I was frozen. And then she was just gone. No trace of her anywhere."

"You didn't find her?" She asks, though she already knows the answer.

"No. It tore the family apart. Nobody even talks about her. There are no facts to confront, nothing to offer any hope," he finishes, turning his gaze up to the sky once more.

It's almost as if she is only now completely understanding him. Gaining insight to why the Mulders are so secluded, why they hang no pictures of family on their walls, as if tucking away the photographs was equivalent to erasing their pasts. They closed their doors to the outside world just as firmly as they closed themselves off, peering through the drawn shades warily into the horrific destruction that is life. The same life that stole their daughter away from them.

She wonders why Mulder isn't so shut off. His parents enclosed their hearts in stone, yet he wears his on his sleeve. Instead of drawing blinds, his heart show raw emotion, and he sits now, pouring out all of his family's secrets to a girl he hardly knows.

"That's when I started reading up on UFO sightings, alien abductions, government conspiracies - the sort of thing people laugh at. But I was fascinated, I read anything I could get my hands on relating to these topics. I read everything I could on paranormal phenomena, _hundreds_ of things."

He turns to face her again, sitting up. His voice is filled with passion as he continues, "listen to me, Scully. I won't give up. I _can't_ give up. The truth is out there, and I'm going to find it. No matter what."

It's impossible, she knows. Aliens don't exist, no matter what Mulder claims to have seen. He certainly believes it, though, and she wonders if perhaps he is looking for a reason - any reason - that his sister was taken from him. If this is his mind's way of processing the cruelty on earth - by thinking the cruelty comes from someplace else.

However, he is quite convincing. She ponders his words, how he claims he will not give up until the truth is found.

She looks into his eyes, and she believes him.

-

She seeks him out at lunch the next day, much to their mutual surprise. Tom gives her an odd look as he passes, but says nothing as he takes a seat beside their friend, Holly.

"Mulder, it's me," she announces, and he looks up from his phone with a grin.

"Hey, Scully," he greets. "I was just reading the news. There are updates on the case." He shows her his phone, yet he flashes it so fast that it is impossible for her to read the details.

"Mulder, the internet isn't good for you." She sighs, yet her expression is fond.

"Oh, by the way," he says, as though he hasn't heard a word she just said - he does that quite often, she notices - "my parents are meeting with someone my dad works with. I'm not sure what it's about; it's a bit suspicious if you really think about it."

"Maybe they're meeting with the government," she quips. "You can never really know who to trust."

He shoots her a glare that holds no true malice. "You tease, but you're actually right." He pauses, taking a bite of his sandwich before finishing dramatically, "trust no one."

"Ah, you're right. We can never really tell who may be working with the aliens." She pulls a brownie from her lunch bag, and begins unwrapping it.

"Hey, is that a brownie?" He questions, before reaching across the table.

"Yes, and it's mine!" She cries, holding it away from his grasping hands. He leans over the table, until he is piratically on top of it, and takes a bite of her treat despite her protests.

"It's good," he says around a mouthful.

"Yeah, and it was _mine._ " She huffs.

"What I was trying to say before you distracted me," he begins, and she gawks.

_"I -"_

"Is that I can't work on our project tonight," he speaks over her, and her cheery mood diminishes.

"What? Mulder, we need to get this done," she tells him, and he nods.

"I know, I'm sorry, but my parents won't be home," he says, and she notices that his apologetic demeanor is genuine.

"Well, why don't we work at my house?" She proposes, wondering why he hadn't thought of it. "It'll be good for you to get out of that little house of yours. You know, for something besides attending school."

"Your parents would be okay with that?" He asks, and she nods in confirmation.

"Why wouldn't they be? It's for our project."

"Alright. I'll go after school. Although, I should probably text my parents first," he responds.

They talk more, about anything and everything. She finds it tremendously easy to talk with Mulder, with his easy smiles and musical laughs. He has a teasing sense of humor, and despite her previous distaste she discovers she likes it. When the bell rings, signaling that their lunch period has ended, she finds herself disappointed.

"Walk with me to my locker?" He asks, and she nods.

They begin their trek to his locker, shoulders brushing, and arguing about whether or not Star Wars is an accurate representation of space.

"It's scientifically incorrect, and you know it, Mulder."

"Do I? I don't know, it all just seems so real. And we've never been to their galaxy, far far away, so how would we know?"

She laughs, eyes tracing his own smile, and decides that perhaps working with Mulder won't be bad at all.

-

He sits at her dining table, and she notices that he has a nervous habit of tapping his fingers and averting his eyes.

"So, what are you working on exactly?" Her mother questions, smiling politely.

"Um, it's a 3D model of DNA," he responds, and she silently notes that he says "um" quite frequently in the presence of people he is not familiar with.

"I hear that you're top of the class. Do you like science?" Her father inquires.

Mulder shoots her a look, one that clearly states, _"so you talk about me?",_ completed with a small smirk.

"Uh, you could say that," he responds. "I'm good at it, but I have my own theories."

Her father seems intrigued, and she fights back a wince.

"What theories are those?" Melissa asks around a fork full of chicken.

"Well, for starters, I believe that there are such things as paranormal phenomena. And I don't believe that we are alone in the universe, a fact I am certain the government knows," he states, and doesn't seem surprised in the least by the confused stares he receives. Charlie even manages to glance up from the screen of his phone long enough to raise an eyebrow, and shoot her a bewildered glance.

It is true that her family is one of faith. However, they are also one of logic. Belief in god fills in the mysteries that even science cannot explain. It is simply another variable in the equation that is the universe.

Mulder's beliefs, however, are otherworldly.

"So you believe in ghosts and conspiracies," Bill deadpans, and he really isn't wrong, however his tone is one of complete judgement, which automatically brings her to Mulder's defense.

"Mulder's theories are strange, but if you listen long enough they aren't as crazy as they seem."

Mulder takes a sip of water and swallows, before speaking.

"Not necessarily. I believe in things most people would deem ridiculous, but in reality they make a lot of sense. I also think that the only reason people think these things are ridiculous is because that is what we are wanted to believe."

He sounds paranoid - crazy, even. There is nothing she can say to backtrack his statement, nothing she can say to make it sound less insane. Instead, she takes a long sip of her water, and pretends she doesn't notice the perplexed stares of her family.

Later, they sit in her front yard. She toes mindlessly at the ground watching small amounts of dirt that become visible through the grass.

"Your family thinks I'm crazy," Mulder says, eyes trained on the small mound of dirt she has created.

"They don't think you're crazy," she states, however due to the look he gives her, she amends this statement. "Okay, maybe a little."

He gives a small chuckle at that, and she smiles.

Just then, the garage door swings open, revealing Melissa and Bill. Melissa has a baseball bat in hand, while Bill holds both a ball and glove.

"Hey, Fox," Melissa calls, "do you play? It would be nice to actually have more than two players."

Bill does not look enthusiastic about her proposal, yet he says nothing.

"I play a little," he allows, nodding. He stands, and glances expectantly at Dana.

"You coming?"

"Don't bother," Melissa tells him. "I've been trying to get her to play for years."

Mulder stares at her with wide eyes. "You don't like baseball?"

"Not really," she replies, and cannot help the amused smile that graces her lips upon seeing his scandalized expression.

"Oh, come on. It'll be great, I promise," he says, extending his hand for her to take.

She does, but not before complaining, "I don't even know how to play."

"I'll show you," he responds, taking her hand and leading her to their make shift home base. Melissa allows her to hit first, and hands her the bat.

He stands behind her, maneuvering her arms to the proper position. He is warm, she notes, and their stance is quite comfortable. She allows herself to relax in his hold, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Now, you don't want to strangle it. You just want to shake hands with it," he states, before teasingly saying, " 'hello, Mr. Bat, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.' 'No, no, Ms. Scully, the pleasure's all mine.' "

She giggles at that, she really can't help it. Melissa lets out a short bark of laughter, however Bill continues to appear less than amused.

"Okay, now we want to go hips before hands," he instructs, placing one of his hands on her hip, "we want to stride forward and turn. That's all we're thinking about. So, we go hips before hands, alright?"

He gently swings her hips in the correct direction, and allows her arms to follow.

"Okay," she responds with a nod, and her small smile has transformed into a wide grin.

"What is it?" He questions her.

"Hips before hands," she replies, and he praises her for passing his test.

"Exactly."

"You're going to want to wait on the pitch," Melissa calls, and she almost jumps. Somehow, Mulder has made it quite easy for her to forget her sister is present.

"We're going to keep our eyes on the ball," Mulder tells her. "Then, we're going to make contact. We're not going to think, we're just going to let it fly."

"Ready?" Melissa questions. She nods, and gives an affirmative hum in response.

Her sister throws the ball, and she tracks it's path through the air. Mulder's hand tightens on her hip, and they turn together, hitting the ball forcefully. It flies through the air, and she receives a small rush of adrenaline.

"Foul!" Bill calls, however Mulder ignores him.

"Hey, that's good. Alright, what you may find is that as you concentrate on hitting the ball, the rest of the world fades away," he says.

Melissa jogs towards the wayward ball, and returns panting slightly. Dana giggles as they hit the ball once more, and not even Bill's exasperated, "another foul," dampens her mood.

"How you couldn't afford that nice new coat on sale," Mulder continues, his voice lowering, "the fact that we haven't even _started_ our science project..."

He trails off, and she doesn't give him the chance to finish.

"Shut up, Mulder," she says, as Melissa throws the ball once more, "I'm playing baseball."

She finds that he is right, though. With his warmth against her back, the bat connecting with the ball, and the contentment she feels, everything seems to fade away. She doesn't even notice Bill returning inside, or Melissa's small smirk, or how Mulder has not moved despite the fact that she now knows enough to manage on her own. She doesn't even notice that they are not technically playing baseball, simply hitting the ball with the bat and laughing.

And when she does notice, she finds that she doesn't mind at all.

Eventually, after what may be hours, Dana's mother opens the window and tells them that they ought to get to work. Although she would much rather continue to play baseball, she can't help but agree, and the three return inside.

Dana and Mulder sit in her room, however they do little more than draw a rough blueprint. They discuss what - hypothetically, of course - _alien_ DNA would look like, and Mulder insists that the government must already know.

When he leaves, he gives her a grin, and makes a promise to see her at school the next day. Immediately after the door slams shut, Melissa appears at her side.

"Are you two dating?" She questions, and Dana gapes at her.

"What? Of course not, I barely know him," she says, crossing her arms.

Melissa studies her, before nodding slowly, as if this fact is difficult to accept.

"All right," she responds, before bounding up the stairs to her room, and leaving Dana to wonder where on earth her sister had gotten that idea.

-

They sit in the school's office, knees brushing. Mulder taps his fingers on the arm of his chair, and she crosses her legs, before uncrossing them.

"Just remember to tell Mr. Stevens that you were provoked," she whispers in his direction.

"Will you stop?" He counters.

"It couldn't hurt," she insists.

She can tell that he is prepared to argue further - mouth opening, and leaning in closer - when the door to the principal's office swings open. Chris storms out with a scowl on his face, and he turns to glare both of them, before exiting the office entirely.

"Dana, Fox," Mr. Stevens says, and Mulder immediately leaps out of his seat.

"I was provoked!" He shouts, and she winces.

Mr. Stevens says nothing. Instead, he simply opens the door to his office, and motions for them to enter. He sits behind his desk, and they slowly lower themselves into the two uncomfortable chairs across from it.

" _He_ approached _us_ ," Mulder begins.

"I was just trying to help my friend."

"We did nothing wrong!"

They're excuses pour out all at once, a mess of desperate, overlapping statements. Mr. Stevens holds up his hands, and they quiet.

"Chris gave me his side of the story, now I need yours," their principal states.

They both begin to speak once more, and he cuts them off with, "one at a time, please."

"You go first," Mulder tells her, and she nods.

"Okay. Well, we were walking down the hall after lunch," she starts.

"To class," Mulder adds, and she turns to look at him, raising a brow. "Sorry, proceed," he says.

"Well, Chris came up to us, and started saying some... _offensive_ things. So, naturally, Mulder retaliated. I tried to hep and things...I don't know, escalated," she finishes.

"Escalated how?" Mr. Stevens inquires.

"Mulder may have punched him," she responds, and Mulder immediately jumps to his own defense.

"It wasn't really a _punch_. Besides, he deserved it!" He cries, before turning to Dana. "And I only punched him because he pushed you. Which he only did because you pushed him."

"I only pushed him because he wouldn't leave you alone! And it was hardly a push, more of a light shove," she counters.

"Fox, Chris' face is already swelling. I can't let that kind of violence go unpunished. It must be dealt with," Mr. Stevens says, and she admires his ability to remain so calm.

"I understand," Mulder responds, clearly doing his best to display the same sort of calmness, however he is clutching the arms of his chair.

"Dana," Mr. Stevens turns to look at her, "I need a moment alone with Fox."

"Of course," she replies, before slipping out of the room and waiting by the door. Time passes slowly, and she crosses her arms, while letting out a long sigh. Without realizing it, she begins tapping her foot on the floor, as she steadily grows impatient.

Finally, after what seems like hours, the door opens, and Mulder stalks out, He makes his way out of the office without giving her so much as a glance, and she jogs to keep up.

"What happened?" She questions.

"He gave me a referral to a counselor," he says with a scowl.

"What? Why?" She asks, furrowing her brow.

"He want to talk about my _'impulse control'_ and what I think happened to my sister." He stops suddenly, and turns to look at her. "He thinks I'm crazy, Scully."

She frowns, and rests her hand on his shoulder. "He doesn't think you're crazy, Mulder. He just thinks - "

"That I'm spooky?" He cuts her off, before releasing a bitter laugh. "It is my name, after all."

He turns to continue walking, however she grabs his arm before he can.

"You're not spooky, Mulder," she says firmly. He relaxes slightly into her touch, but goes rigid when she adds, "and who knows? Maybe a counselor could be good for you."

"I'm not crazy, Scully," he practically shouts. Students in the hall turn to watch the ordeal, purposely slowing their strides so the are able to catch as much of the tense conversation as possible. "I'm _right_."

"Mulder, you lost your sister," she says softly. "I think that talking about it could - "

"I _did_ talk about it," he hisses, before softening his tone. "I told you."

It is then that she realizes Mulder does not trust easily after all. He has no problem voicing his beliefs, however he keeps what he deems valuable knowledge close to his heart.

She wonders what she could have possibly done to earn the key that unlocked the secrets he keeps. What made her seem trust worthy, while she lay on the cold ground of his yard, and looked up at the shimmering night sky alongside him?

Mulder _does_ recognize the cruelty the world harbored. Cruelty of men and creatures alike. Losing his sister and dealing with people such as Chris has educated him in the notion that the human race can be just as awful as any monster one's imagination can concoct. The only difference between him and his parents is that Mulder believes in these monsters as well.

She wonders what he saw in her, that night. If perhaps he looked into her eyes and saw someone who could potentially understand him. She doesn't, not really.

But she cares about him enough to try.

She releases his arm, and pulls him into a tight embrace instead.

-

They finish their project at the last possible minute.

Their in depth discussions, and even the not so profound ones, left no time for something as trivial as _human_ DNA.

She is almost upset that their project is now completed, for now they no longer have an excuse for spending so much time together. Perhaps she will find a different reason for her parents to allow her to stay at his house for quite so many hours, and vice versa.

After morning classes, she heads into the cafeteria, intent on finding her way to the small table in the back corner, occupied only by one other person. She wonders how many times Mulder sat there alone, before she joined him. She hopes he wasn't too lonely.

Before she can get to the table, however, Tom stops her.

She must admit that she is neglecting her friends. She can hardly remember the last time she ate lunch with them. Tom doesn't seem quite as upset as she expected. Instead, he appears delighted.

"Finally finished that project, huh?" He asks. "Good thing. Now you don't have to be Mrs. Spooky anymore."

He shoots her a smile, and she frowns in his direction.

"Don't call him that," she snaps, her fingers tightening around her lunch tray.

"Why not?" Tom questions, seemingly confused. "He's weird. You've admitted it yourself."

She clenches her teeth, and glares. It is true, unfortunately. She _has_ spoken about the odd boy who moved in next door to her on multiple occasions.

She hates the fact that he must face this each day; being called a variety of insults by ignorant people such as Tom.

Such as herself, before. The feeling of guilt worms its way into the pit of her stomach, settling like a stone.

Instead of giving him a response, she simply turns and continues on her path to Mulder's table. _Their_ table.

"What did Tom want?" Mulder inquires, as she plops herself into her usual seat, a scowl on her face.

"Nothing," she mutters, shaking her head. She picks at her food, before adding, "he's a jerk."

"You just realized that?" He asks, and she lets out a laugh.

She is glad beyond words that she's come to know her odd neighbor.

-

She sits in the hard, less than comfortable chair, as salt and liquid blend in her eyes. Her hand rapidly wipes the tears as they fall, and she allows her eyes to shut.

The doctor shoots her family a sympathetic look, as her sister releases a loud sob. Her mother pulls Melissa into her arms, and the two cry freely.

She nods at the doctor, however she can't help but resent him, as he simply walks away and carries on with his work as if nothing awful has happened.

As if her father isn't dead.

In fact, she wonders why time hasn't stopped completely; why the universe isn't falling apart at the seams.

The world shouldn't function so normally now that her father has departed.

And yet it does. Families enter and exit the waiting room. She witnesses screams, tears, and even small sighs of relief.

Everything is as it should be in the waiting room of the ICU, and she hates it.

Her mother doesn't send them to school the next day. Instead, she allows them to lock themselves away and mourn. Dana's door isn't even shut before the sobs that had been caught in her throat finally pour out.

She sits on her bed, and feels the air being stolen from her lungs, leaving her with raw, ragged breaths. Her hands cover her face, and she tastes tears on her tongue.

It's almost strange, she thinks, that humans can fall apart so quietly.

Here she is, crying so much that she is certain afterwards she will feel hollow, yet all of her neighbors carry on as if it is any other day.

Her phone rings, and Mulder's name flashes on her screen.

Well, almost all of them.

  
"Mulder?" She rasps out.

"Hey, Scully, where are you? We're supposed to be dissecting something today, and I really need my partner." His voice filters through her phone.

"Mulder," she says quietly, her voice practically a whisper, "my dad's dead."

She almost expects the roof to cave in on her, or perhaps for the ground to swallow her whole. Surely there must be _some_ response from the universe, after finally voicing the truth that she does not want to face.

Mulder is silent for a moment, before softly saying, "Dana, I'm so sorry."

She begins to verify that it is in no way his fault, before he cuts her off. "I'm coming over. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes; maybe ten."

"Mulder, you can't leave school," she tells him, however she is certain that her attempt to be reasonable is futile.

"Too late, I've already left," he says. "See you soon."

"Mulder, don't - " she starts, but the line goes dead, and she knows that he has already hung up.

She sighs, placing the phone on her bedside table. Then, she wipes the tears cascading down her face, before hopping out of bed and trekking into her living room to await her friend's arrival.

When she arrives at her destination, she freezes immediately.

There, seated on the couch, is her father.

He mutters "Starbuck" quietly, as though it is a prayer. She blinks, and then he is gone.

When Mulder arrives, she is seated on her couch with wide eyes, in the same spot that her father had sat on only minutes prior. She hears her mother's surprise upon seeing Mulder at the door - a shocked greeting, and a quiet thanks in response to his offered condolences - and then Mulder is sitting next to her.

"I saw him," she says in a hushed tone. "My father. He was here, just now."

His only reply is putting his arm around her, and she immediately cries, "I did! I'm not crazy, Mulder! He was here!"

"I don't think you're crazy," he says, in a low tone. "I believe you."

She buries his face in his shoulder, tears falling down her face, and he hugs her tightly. He says nothing, but his silent comfort is more than enough.

-

Mulder isn't at school.

Nor is he at his home, or answering his cell. She feels panic creep up on her, nipping at her heels and growling in her ear.

She finds that it is tremendously difficult to focus on work while her friend is missing. She continuously attempts to contact him through both calling and texting, her worry growing steadily as minutes go by without a single response.

"Do you know where he might have gone?" Mrs. Mulder questions her over the phone, and she denies any knowledge. It's not entirely true, for it is very likely that she knows the answer.

Mulder has gone to find the truth, and has done something incredibly stupid along the way.

She recalls the last time she heard from him. He had sent her a quick text just that morning.

_I might have found something_ , it read, and then he was gone. No one on the planet seems to know where he is.

She can't help the dark scenarios that force their way into her brain.

When school ends, she goes to his home instead of her own. His parents aren't there, and she convinces herself that this is a good thing. Maybe they found Mulder.

Maybe they found him alive and well.

She prays that they found him alive and well.

Her siblings give her odd glances, but say nothing as she plops herself down on Mulder's porch and fiddles with her phone.

She shifts her gaze upwards immediately upon hearing a car engine. A sigh of relief escapes her when she sees Mulder exit the car. Leaping to her feet, she bounds over to her friend.

"Mulder, what happened? Where were you?" She demands.

His parents completely ignore her, as his mother latches onto his arm and drags him to his door.

"In a holding cell," he admits sheepishly, and upon seeing her astounded expression, adds, "I was so close, Scully!"

Before she can question what he means by that, his mother slams the door in her face. She doesn't see him again that night, and is left to ponder his words on her own.

Frustration builds up, and when she sees him and school the next day she immediately demands, "why didn't you answer your phone last night?"

"My parents took it away," he responds with a shrug. "Needless to say, they were not happy with me."

"Well, I can understand why," she remarks. "You disappeared for _hours_. And, a holding cell?"

He lets out a short, awkward laugh at that, and she is reminded why she wasn't particularly fond of him during their first real meeting. She hits his arm with her purple binder, and he cries out, rubbing the wounded area.

"You were gone, Mulder." She glares at him, before softly adding, "I was worried."

His amused expression fades, and is replaced by one of guilt. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Well, what happened?" She inquires, leaning against her locker and holding her books to her chest.

"A couple of seniors told me that they managed to get inside a government base by crawling through a hole in the fence," he responds, sounding both sheepish and excited at once. "They said they saw alien technology."

"Mulder, if you're talking about who I think you're talking about, those seniors are always as high as -"

"I _know,_ Scully," he cuts her off, "but it was the only lead I've ever had. I had to follow it!"

"I can't believe you," she mutters, shaking her head and straightening up. "You trespassed on government property!"

"I'm going back," he states, and she glares at him.

"Mulder, what are you thinking?" She hisses. "The only thing you're going to accomplish is ending up in another holding cell."

"I have to!" He retaliates. "I was caught before I even got the chance to glimpse at what they might be working on."

The bell rings, signaling that there is only ten minutes until school begins officially. She huffs, and starts to make her way to her classroom.

Her pace is quick, and fueled by frustration. Mulder jogs to catch up, and continues speaking in a hushed tone.

"Look, the only reason I got caught is because I went in the daylight," he says seriously, as though he is sharing his most precious secret. "If I go tonight, I won't be found."

She closes her eyes and sighs. "Mulder, you're crazy."

"Scully - "

"No, Mulder!" She cuts him off, turning to face him. "You won't find anything because the government is _not_ using alien technology. The only lead you have, is one you got from drugged teenagers!"

While speaking, her voice has raised without her realizing it. She finishes panting slightly, and grips her pencil case with white knuckles.

When he speaks, his voice is much softer.

"Scully, you have to believe me," he says, placing his hand on top of her own. "No one else on this whole damn planet does or ever will." His eyes are pleading, as he finishes, "you're my one in five billion."

His tone is sincere, and his gaze pierces her own. His words cut through her skin, burrowing their way past her bones. She feels them colliding with her soul, leaving a faint ache in her chest.

"There are seven billion people in the world," she says quietly, and relaxes her stance. He laughs, squeezing her hand.

"Mulder, I have never met anyone as passionate, or as stubborn as you are," she states, a small smile tugging on her lips.

"So you'll come with me?" He asks hopefully, his smile mirroring her own.

She sighs. "Yeah, I'll go."

His grin puts the blinding rays of the sun to shame. She shakes her head, whilst closing her eyes, and wonders if she has officially gone insane.

They leave at sunset, the sky pink and emitting golden light. She quickly tells Melissa to inform their mother that she will be back soon, which she only deems as white lie, and offers no other explanation. She then retrieves her bicycle from her garage, hoping that she will not be in too much trouble, before waiting for Mulder. He quickly grabs his own, and then they are off.

It is a long journey, and she finds herself wishing that either of them were eligible to drive. When they finally arrive at their destination, she is completely winded.

It is quite dark, however she is still able to see a large grey fence, as well as a massive building in the distance, across a vast field. Mulder leads her to a small hole in the fence, and she hesitantly follows him through it. He then leads her to a grassy hill, before fixing his gaze on the sky.

She crosses her arms over her chest, and shivers as cold air cuts through her skin. Then, Mulder is calling out her name and pointing at the sky, so she shifts her gaze upwards.

It doesn't take her long to notice the two strange lights. They clearly aren't stars, and the way they dance across the sky intrigues her immensely.

"What are they?" She questions. "I've never seen anything like them."

"I don't know," he responds, and his eyes are as bright as the lights in the sky. "It's unbelievable."

"They can't be any sort of aircraft," she reasons. "Aircraft doesn't fly like that."

"Well, what else could they be?" He asks, a small smile playing on his lips.

She knows what he is hoping she will say, but she still can't bring herself to believe his theory. The lights are unreal, but they can't possibly be _alien._

"I don't know," she responds, cold air puffing from her lips. "Lasers, maybe?"

Together, they continue to watch the sky, as the lights perform their strange routine, before flying upwards and disappearing completely into the clouds.

"Oh my god," she breathes, turning to face her friend. His eyes meet hers, and she finds an equally astounded expression reflecting in them.

She then feels a drop of rain hit her shoulder, and directs her attention back to the sky. Dark clouds have appeared, and the rain begins to fall heavily.

Neither of them move, however. Instead, Mulder throws his head back and laughs, and she soon finds herself following.

He appears giddy, and she realizes that she can relate. An elated feeling blossoms in her chest, and she is sure that she has never felt this alive.

Their laughter and the sound of rain hitting the ground are the only sounds that fill the night air, however this soon isn't the case. A loud, harsh cry cuts through, and both of them jump, realizing that they have been caught.

They glance at each other with wide eyes, before immediately sprinting towards the hole in the fence. They hastily mount their bicycles, and pedal faster than before.

When she arrives at her house, she is greeted with her mother's infuriated face.

"Where have you been?" Her mother demands, arms crossed over her chest. Dana attempts to concoct a proper lie, but instead ends up stuttering about watching the sunset.

Her mother is less than pleased, and Dana knows that this is hardly the end of the conversation. However, she is soaked to the bone, and shivers wrack her frame, so her mother simply sends her to grab a change of clothes. When she returns, she is given a warm blanket, and her mother leaves the room to make tea.

Lectures can wait, fighting against colds cannot.

She envelopes herself in the blanket, before hearing a small noise from her phone. Glancing down, she sees that Mulder has texted her.

_Hope you didn't get into too much trouble,_ it reads.

_Not yet,_ she sends back. His reply is almost instant.

_I can't help but feel that it was worth it._

_That wasn't a ufo, Mulder._

_Then what was it?_

_I don't know._

_So you're saying it was an unidentified flying object?_

Her mother returns, and hands her a steaming cup. She hides her smile in it, and listens to her mother's furious rant.

-

Her legs dangle off his bed, as she spoons the last of her frozen treat into her mouth.

Mulder, who had finished his ice cream long before her, teasingly asks, "see? Wasn't that much better than your frozen rice crap?"

She sets her empty bowl on his nightstand, and mutters, "my frozen rice _creamsicle_ was delicious, and much healthier." His laughter rings through the room, and she can't help but grin in response, biting her lip slightly.

"I'll slip the bowls into the sink so my mom doesn't freak," he tells her, grabbing his own discarded dish. She grabs hers, deciding to help.

They make their way out of the room, and are at the top of the staircase when Mulder stops suddenly.

"Mulder? What -" she begins, confusion evident on her face, before he shushes her. He silently crouches down, and she hesitantly follows suit.

On the first floor, stand both of his parents, along with a man dressed in what seems to be a very expensive suit and tie. He appears around Mulder's father's age, and holds a cigarette between his lips. The smoke wafts through the house and reaches her mouth, so she covers it to avoid coughing.

"And she's safe?" His mother is asking quietly, mindful of the children who she believes to be tucked away in Fox's room.

"She will be," the man with the cigarette responds. "She's with my son Jeffery now. They're getting along just fine."

The Mulders nod, accepting the reply. Beside her, she feels Fox freeze. She then hears him softly mutter the name, "Samantha."

"Can we see her?" His father is saying, and she sees the smoking man shake his head.

"The testing has already begun," he explains, and beside her Fox lets out a small, muffled noise. It sounds as if he has been struck with a physical blow, and although it is quiet, the adults immediately direct their attention towards the staircase.

"Fox?" His mother calls. "What are you doing?"

Slowly, Mulder sets his bowl down, and stands. He shakily makes his way down the stairs, one hesitant step before the other. She scrambles quickly to follow, and finds herself worrying that he will fall.

When he meets the smoking man's gaze, his face is so blank that she knows there is a whirlwind of emotion underneath. Quietly, he asks, "what did you do to my sister?"

When there is no response, the dam opens, and emotion floods out of him. Witnessing it is almost like watching a light breeze become a dangerous hurricane.

_"What did you do to my sister?"_ He screams, and his face contorts into a snarl. Anger radiates off of him so intensely that she takes a step back.

"I don't know what you mean," the man responds calmly, smoke puffing past his lips.

Mulder releases a low sound, that could quite possibly be considered a growl, before turning to his mother. "Where is she?"

"Fox, you don't know what you're - "

"You gave her to them! _You caused this!_ " He cries, and his mother's eyes concoct their own storm.

A flash of movement, and then a sickening noise of impact. It takes Dana a moment to register the fact that Mrs. Mulder has slapped her own son.

Tears threaten to fall from the woman's eyes, and Dana catches anger, hurt, and fear in her gaze.

Mulder slowly touches his cheek - now bright red - before promptly turning and rushing out the door.

She hurriedly follows, shouting his name when he doesn't stop. When she finally catches up to him at the end of his driveway, she grabs his arm, before pulling him in for a hug.

"They knew," he sobs, resting his head on top of her own, his words muffled by her hair. "They knew this whole time."

She allows him to take time to regain his composure, before offering to bring him to her own home. He nods, so she takes his hand, and leads him inside.

When her mother catches sight of them, she immediately expresses her concern.

"Fox?" She questions, approaching the two teenagers. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Scully," he replies, his voice smaller than she has ever heard it before. "It's just my parents."

Her mother frowns, before taking Mulder by the hand and leading him to the couch. She sits him down, and squeezes his shoulder.

"Call me Maggie," she tells him with a smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Mulder simply shakes his head in response.

Dana settles next to him, pulling his head down to rest on her shoulder. He sighs, and relaxes his weight.

"Mom?" Dana says quietly. "Can you leave us alone? We'll be fine."

Her mother gives them both a wary glance, but nods. She pats Mulder's hand, before reluctantly leaving the room.

"Dana," Mulder says quietly, and she is startled by the use of her first name, "you're the only one I can trust."

And what can she possibly say to that?

Mulder has spent years shouting to the world about monsters and aliens and conspiracies. He had been forced to watch as everyone simply turned a blind eye, only to find that his parents have been involved in the madness he so desperately tried to warn everyone about all along.

She can't even begin to understand how that must feel, or know how to comfort him.

So, she simply squeezes his hand, and asks, "do you want some frozen rice crap?"

To both her astonishment and delight, he laughs. It's wet, weak and rough, but a laugh nonetheless.

She finds that his laugh is quickly becoming her favorite sound to hear.

-

He arrives at her door with puffy red eyes, and tear tracks down his cheeks.

For a moment, he simply stares at her, before pulling her into a stifling embrace. She furrows her brow, as both confusion and worry set in.

She pulls away, and questions, "Mulder? What - "

"We're moving," he cuts her off, forcing the words out quickly, as though releasing them into the air physically pains him.

She freezes, unable to process the information. Then, panic grips her with long, icy claws, and her first defense is fierce denial.

"No, you can't!" She exclaims, shaking her head.

He grabs her shoulders, and meets her eyes. "They want to separate us."

"Who?" She inquires, her voice low.

"My parents, and the man they were talking with," he responds. "They know that we're getting close to the truth. And," he pauses, as fresh tears well up in his eyes, "and they know I can't find it without you. That I don't even want to."

Reality grips her then, dragging her under cold waves of horror.

"When are you leaving?" She asks quietly, and the words taste sour on her tongue.

"Tomorrow," he replies. "I just found out today. I'm supposed to be packing."

Her gaze roams over his features, committing them to memory. She meets his deep eyes - a mixture of both green and brown, she notes - and grips his arm tightly. A part of her hopes that if she doesn't let go, he won't ever leave.

She realizes then, that despite knowing him for merely a year, she can't imagine her life without him. Can't imagine anyone else by her side, as he has been.

She pulls him into an embrace so tight that it rivals their prior one, and allows her tears to fall, seeping into his shirt. He cradles her head, and buries his nose into her red hair.

"I love you," he mutters, so quietly that if she had not felt the movements of his lips she would have assumed that she was dreaming.

"I love you," she whispers back, her words muffled by his chest, and his embrace tightens. When she finally pulls away, she notices that his eyes shine with intensity. Astonishment reflects in them, as if by loving him she has given him a rare gift. She wonders if he knows that she never had a choice, that this was the only possibly outcome.

When morning arrives, she stands with him, and watches his parents load boxes packed with his possessions into a truck. When it is time for him to leave, she grips his hand, and wishes that she never had to let go.

A mixture of salt and liquid stain her cheeks, and they blur her vision as she watches the vehicle fade into the distance. When it is completely gone from her line of sight, she releases a gut wrenching sob.

Fox Mulder had seeped into her very being, working his way through her veins and flowing directly to her beating heart. Losing him is like losing a limb, and she isn't certain she will survive the separation.

As time goes on, she attempts to evaporate these thoughts, and focus on her day to day life. However, the thing about evaporation is that it leads to condensation, which leads to precipitation. Thoughts of him rain down, pounding harshly upon her skull and enveloping her brain. _Evaporation, condensation, precipitation_ ; a scientific process, she knows, and an endlessly continuous one at that. She wonders if he simply radiates an aura that demands to be loved. One that has the ability to reshape her entire life; one to be cherished and remembered always.

-

She follows the long, winding hallway, stopping only when she reaches a tall wooden door. A combination of both eagerness and anxiety cause her stomach to plummet down to her shiny black heels, and she takes a deep breath, before knocking.

"Nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted!" A voice from inside calls, and she cracks a small smile.

As she swings the door open, he turns to look at her, and all the air leaves her lungs. She clears her throat, calming herself, before saying, "agent Mulder?"

It is voiced as though it is a question. She supposes it is, for she can't quite believe her eyes. As she takes him in, she sees that he has changed quite a bit. However, he then flashes her a boyish grin, and meets her eyes with his own deep gaze, and she feels that what really matters has remained untouched.

His smile wavers, as his eyes trace her form. "Do I know you?" He inquires. "You seem familiar."

She offers him a small smile, before holding out her hand. "Special agent Dana Scully."

His eyes widen as he takes in her words. Then, he laughs and stands. He strides towards her, and quickly pulls her in for an embrace, as though the last time they had spoken hadn't been a decade.

When he releases her, she takes in his basement office, and grins upon noticing the various photos of paranormal phenomena tacked to the walls.

"You haven't changed at all," she decides, with a small laugh.

"No," he agrees. "But I am closer to finding the truth."

"Need some help?" She questions, grin remaining intact.

He returns the smile, and says, "from you, always."

She sits in his chair, and asks, "what are you working on?"

And just like that, nothing has changed. Just like that, they are simply two kids, intent on discovering the truth, knowing that they can accomplish this as long as they are together.

-

_You and I know I had to leave_  
 _And the harbor lights I cannot see_  
 _But you were my rock never my stepping stone_  
\- A Silent Film, Harbor Lights

**Author's Note:**

> I might make a sequel about older msr, or even tiny msr drabbles.


End file.
